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The Summoner

A Somonour was ther with us in that place,

That hadde a fyr-reed cherubynnes face,

For saucefleem he was, with eyen narwe.

As hoot he was and lecherous as a sparwe,

With scalled browes blake, and piled berd,

Of his visage children were aferd.

Ther nas quyk-silver, lytarge, ne brymstoon,

Boras, ceruce, ne oille of tartre noon,

Ne oynement, that wolde clense and byte,

That hym myghte helpen of his whelkes white,

Nor of the knobbes sittynge on his chekes.

 

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Taken on April 1, 2006